Bubblegum Crisis
by fuyusarah
Summary: When Chat Noir gets into a sticky predicament during patrol, he turns to Marinette for help.


With careful fingers, Marinette inspected the back of Chat Noir's head as he sat cross-legged in front of her chaise. His tail lay flat on the floor, as dejected as the drooping cat ears on top of his head. Of all the possible reasons for Marinette to be combing her fingertips through Chat Noir's soft hair, bubblegum was the last thing she might have imagined. **  
**

"It's hopeless, isn't it?" he asked. There was a tremor in his voice that reminded Marinette of Manon on the brink of tears. "I'm going to have bubblegum in my hair forever. I'm going to be renamed Gum Noir. Chat Bubble? Goo Noir. That's it. Ladybug and Goo Noir, heroes of Paris."

Marinette tried not to laugh. She was used to Chat Noir being a bit overdramatic. As Ladybug, she had continuously been on the receiving end of his exaggerated overtures. She liked to think that she knew when he was being theatrical, and when he was being sincere.

Tonight, Chat Noir's panic when he came knocking on her window was so genuine and alarming, she almost called Tikki to transform her, right there in front of him. It turned out that it was only bubblegum in his hair, to Marinette's relief. But to Chat Noir, it was a catastrophe. He was talking too fast for her to understand everything, but he might have said something about a photoshoot tomorrow?

(Marinette didn't recall one being scheduled for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Perhaps someone scheduled one for just him. Unusual, but thoroughly deserved. It was about time he got the spotlight.)

What she did catch from his fast ramblings, was that he had tried to detransform, hoping that the gum would fall away when he did. But the vile goo had stayed. At a loss for what to do, he had transformed again and rushed to Marinette's window to beg for help.

That he thought to come to her before anyone else filled Marinette with more warmth than she dared to admit.

"Don't you worry," she told him gently. "Goo Noir will be Chat Noir again in like two minutes, I promise."

He nodded. "I truly, truly, truly do apologize for this."

"It's no problem at all." Marinette patted his shoulder for good measure, then began securing the clean sections of his hair with the assortment of hair pins from her dresser. Huh. Who knew that pink looked cute on her partner?

"I swear," he continued, "I don't make a habit of knocking on girls' windows at ungodly hours of the night—"

"Chat Noir—"

"Or anyone's windows, for that matter—"

"It's really fine—"

"Unless it's an akuma-related concern, maybe, I don't know—"

"Hey," Marinette interrupted, lightly tugging on his hair. "Stop apologizing already."

"Sorry."

Marinette shook her head. Ever the gentleman, her Kitty. She reached for the bottle of olive oil that she had brought up from the kitchen.

"Tell me again," she began as she carefully poured some oil on the gum, "how did you get bubblegum stuck in your hair?"

Chat Noir squirmed in his seat. Mumbled something under his breath.

"Say again?"

"I was on patrol."

"Yes?"

"And… I…" Even with his back to her, Marinette could hear him wince. "I…slipped. And fell." He paused. "…into a dumpster."

Marinette pursed her lips and tried to concentrate very hard on the task literally at hand. A generous amount of oil was key to removing gum painlessly, but it only needed to be massaged on the actual gum and the affected hair—

"You can laugh, you know."

A bubble of laughter promptly caught in Marinette's throat, and she would have slapped her hands on her mouth, if only her fingertips weren't currently slathered in oil.

"I'm sorry!" she said, powerless against the snickers now escaping her. "Oh, Kitty…"

"I have the worst luck, I know," he sighed. "Of all the dumpsters to fall into, it had to be one with a piece of freshly chewed gum in it."

"Well, you're lucky you have me as your friend, at least?" she offered.

He didn't say anything to that, but he turned his head enough to smile at her.

It was a soft smile. Warm and grateful, and Marinette felt pride swell in her chest, the way it always did whenever she was the one responsible for Chat Noir's smiles. But there was something else there, too. A nostalgic feeling that reminded her of distant thunder and the smell of rain.

Something gooey dropped into her palm.

"Oh!" she cried. "And there we go. Bubblegum crisis averted."

Chat Noir gasped, turning fully to stare at the green blob in Marinette's fingers.

"You're my hero," he breathed.

This time, Marinette didn't stop herself from giggling. She picked up a few sheets of paper towels that she had grabbed from the kitchen.

"Turn back around," she commanded, twirling a finger for emphasis. Chat Noir obeyed, resuming his previous position in front of her. But this time, his ears were happily perked and his tail swayed from side to side, brushing Marinette's knees.

"I'm so glad we didn't have to cut my hair," he said, practically vibrating in obvious relief.

"Me too," she said as she wiped the oil off of him. "But I'm sure shorter hair would also look nice on you."

"Will you still love me even when I have terrible hair?"

"Silly kitty, I'll still love you even when you're bald."

They both froze.

"I meant—!"  
"Like a friend—"  
"Yes exactly—"  
"Because friends can totally—"  
"Totally—"

Chat Noir jumped to his feet, then. Suddenly unable to meet his eyes, Marinette grabbed several more paper towels and busied herself with wiping down the remnants of olive oil on her hands.

"W-well then!" she blurted out.

"Yup!" he agreed. She wasn't sure of what he was agreeing to, but she agreed that he agreed.

She hazarded a glance up at him. He seemed to be finding her ceiling to be intensely interesting. "You still have to shower," she reminded him.

"I have a great shower at home," was his reply, quickly followed by a cringe and a silent mouthing of, 'What.'

"That's what I meant! Shower at home. Your home. In your shower."

"Showering is good! I like showering."

"Good."

There was a brief pause. Chat Noir awkwardly drummed his palms on his thighs.

"So, I'm gonna go…"

"Okay, take care!"

Chat Noir nodded once, then bounded up to Marinette's loft and slipped out through her skylight. Marinette stood alone in her suddenly too silent room, blinking at the abrupt bizarre end of her already bizarre evening.

"Oh! Marinette!" Chat Noir called.

She looked up to see him hanging upside down as he poked his head back in, his smiling eyes glowing in the evening light, his flop of blond hair blissfully bubblegum-free. Marinette's hands tingled. Now she knew how it felt like to run her fingers through it…

"Y-yes?" she answered, unsure of the blooming heat in her cheeks and the tripping of her tongue. Why was she stammering?

For a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes purposeful but his mouth hesitating. Then he paused, shook his head, and smiled.

"Thank you," he said in a gentle whisper that echoed in the quiet room. "For being my friend. Thank you."

The sincerity in his voice felt like a bolt of lightning. Marinette smiled back at him, hoping to communicate the affection in her heart.

"Anytime."


End file.
